


The Prodigal Son

by swimthewholeriogrande



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst, Canon Era, Child Abuse, Gen, I'm Sorry, M/M, Pain, Period-Typical Homophobia, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 18:22:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16581686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swimthewholeriogrande/pseuds/swimthewholeriogrande
Summary: Family is everything to him.





	The Prodigal Son

**Author's Note:**

> Yikes

It starts like it does every night - with his father's finger tracing the rim of his glass, contemplative and dangerous, and Davey sends Sarah and Les and his ma to bed without a word. His ma never wants to go, but she's all bent and weak from hours bent over at the sewing machine and he's been bigger for years now. he always closes their door and opens the window; he always needs the air.

He sits with his da like a good son and watches the honey-amber liquid swirl and squeak as his father keeps making that circle around the glass' edge. He's been at the docks all day; he stinks of oil and sweat and Davey understands it, he really does, how his father's day is a noose on his neck. His own hands are ink-stained, Jack's calling card, and he knows that's what will catalyse it but he can never get the blotches out of his palms. 

It starts, "You been hanging out with that kid, boy?" And Davey does not lie - he never lies - except to his da. He says, "No." and he is not a good lier. 

That maddening finger circles, circles the rim, and heavy-lidded eyes watch Davey. He looks anywhere but his father's face; if he concentrates he can hear a gramophone two thin floors below. And he understands, he does, because he is too thin and too bookish and too weak, too much like his mother in a way that is only appropriate for Sarah to be - quick to cry and feel. 

When the glass lifts he knows to duck but not fast enough. It catches his temple, shatters against the back of his chair and slices his cheek and the scotch burns. He flinches but doesn't stand; his da is halfway out of his seat, the whites of his eyes yellowed and unknowable. 

"I know what those kinds of kids do." his father is muttering, almost to himself. "I know what you do with him, boy, I'm not a fool."

Davey thinks his father is going mad. He thinks one day he'll kill him, but he doesn't think it will be tonight. He knows Les must be wailing, but that his ma will have his hand over his younger brother's mouth to keep him still and safe. 

"Da," he tries, voice dull, and it crescendos - Davey's inky hands slide and gash on the fallen glass when his father throws him to the ground, scotch running through the tile-cracks like rivers in Sante Fe, and the boot on his back crushes him to the ground. It moves to his face, grinding his cheek and chest in the shards, leaving a latticed print of mud on his temple. 

Davey stays very still, regardless of the glass embedded in his skin, trained in playing dead to let the animal go by. A single jerk runs through his spine when his da drags his sole across his cheek and smears it with filth.

"I know." his father says. His weight is heavy on Davey's skull, and Davey closes his eyes. "I know what you are."

He doesn't stay long; he never does. He stumbles to bed in the other room, and Davey waits on the ground until he hears snores and then finally lets a sob escape him, his body arching with pain and humiliation. This is his family's cue to come to him, for Sarah to hold Les back as his mother weeps and attends, but Davey shakes off her hands. He knows that he's dirty and that there is only one clean person in New York tonight. 

He leaves the apartment to go to Jack, with a slick face and lacerated hands, for first aid and a bloody kiss; and he knows, he does, that he will be back tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuses for this angst but please comment if you enjoyed it/despised it!


End file.
